Hostage Hand
by absababs
Summary: Kenny likes to hold Craig's hand. Craig may grow to like it. Not that he'd ever say so.


It all started when Kenny had figured out a guaranteed way to annoy Craig, which amused him to no end. Well, technically, it might have started way back in fourth grade during that field trip to Pioneer Village, that annoying place where employees won't break character. One day, he was out at the back of the school bumming smokes off of Craig again. Or trying to, anyways.

"No."

"Craig, please."

Craig sighed, his breath already reminiscent of smoke in the cold air while he packed his Newports. He glanced at Kenny's pout and rolled his eyes.

"I already gave you a shit ton last week, so no," Craig refused.

"Yeah, but you owe me like five. You buy the cheap shit anyways. Please? I don't want to have to go back to my lunch table and listen to Kyle and Fatass go at it without some nicotine in my system."

"No." Craig presented a middle finger.

"Come on, I..." Kenny looked up at the cold gray sky and then back to Craig's finger as he tried to come up with an exchange on the spot. "I...I'll hold your hand!" Kenny grinned hopefully at Craig.

Hearing the offer, Craig had choked on his first drag. He put a hand on the wall behind them for support as he bent over hacking. "What the fuck? Hell no."

But Kenny was adamant in his strategy. Maybe he could annoy Craig into sharing instead. So after Craig had tucked his lighter away, Kenny darted his hand out and grabbed Craig's hand. It was bony and large, much different from the tiny, rounded hands of youth he recalled. But it was warm. He liked it. Craig, on the other hand, did not.

"Stop that."

"Give me a smoke." A smirk. "Please."

Craig scowled and took a drag as he looked at his hand in Kenny's. He tried to pull and twist his hand away, but found that Kenny had a surprisingly strong grip.

"Let go of my hand, dipshit."

Kenny just shuffled closer and began to hum, looking around with an innocent smile.

Craig gave Kenny a particularly intimidating glare, but sighed and relented when he realized it was having no effect. "Fine."

Kenny grinned at his victory and held out his free hand, looking towards Craig expectantly. Craig rolled his eyes and nodded his head at their hands pointedly. First of all, he needed his free hand to get out his pack because he wasn't going to burn himself by trying to use his occupied hand. Second of all, he had only given up so Kenny would let his hand go.

Kenny chuckled and released, watching Craig reach into his pocket, clearly agitated. He took a cigarette and the lighter when it was offered and said his thanks. He reveled in the discovery of another one of life's pleasures, and decided that he was most definitely going to try this again.

…

Too often, it was a sneak attack.

Craig would be at his locker or generally in the hallways with Clyde, Token, and/or Tweek, his hand dangling by his side, vulnerable and unsuspecting. He would fail to notice the orange blur that would creep up to his side with a grin before he would look down to find his fingers intertwined with Kenny's.

"God damn it, Kenny. No."

"Sshhh, don't fight it," Kenny would say before cackling.

Craig grimaced with distaste. He hated his inability to fight off Kenny's incessant hand-holding attacks. It was gross, honestly. Sometimes their hands would get all sweaty. And it was the worst when Kenny nabbed his left hand, because Craig was left handed and he kind of needed it to do things that require your dominant hand. He also hated that no one ever offered him any help. Clyde was a dick so he wouldn't have been much help anyways, but Craig was beginning to suspect that he was in cahoots with Kenny. Possibly as revenge for all the times he filmed Clyde's black-out drunk shenanigans and had Token post them. He would keep Craig distracted, giving Kenny the chance to sidle up to him. And Token? The suave, sane, dependable friend? He would hardly acknowledge Craig's soulful pleading expressions. Ok, so they were probably way more stoic than Craig imagined, but he could hardly stand the betrayal. Tweek was no help whatsoever, but he thought it would be too much to expect from him. His jittering got even worse when Kenny held Craig's hand because, as he had once told Craig at 5 AM over a bowl and some coffee, it was a conspiracy. The Gnomes had employed Kenny to Steal Underpants, so all of this was some Huge Plot to Steal Craig's Boxers.

Craig would violently thrash his hand back and forth as Clyde snickered, but Kenny was unshakable. So Craig would sigh in defeat and carry on with his business, eventually too lazy to really do anything about it. Kenny would laugh at him and swing their hands between them in victory as he was pulled along through the hallways.

…

Sometimes it was inappropriately timed.

Once, Kenny had made them hold hands while they were peeing. Craig had entered the bathroom and ambled to a urinal when Kenny had come in behind him- By chance, Craig hoped to god. Having a stalker was not on his bucket list. Kenny had waltzed on over to the neighboring urinal, ignoring personal space, and had seized Craig's hand before Craig had even gotten to go.

Craig closed his eyes in annoyance, eye twitching, before he shot a glare down at Kenny. "What the fuck. I have to fucking piss, let go."

Kenny gave him a sweet smile. "Let's hold hands while we pee, bro. It will be a bonding experience."

Craig looked at Kenny with a disturbed expression. "Uh, fuck that, no."

"Do it. Or I'll tell Clyde that you had Token sleep over last night without him."

Craig sputtered. "We had a project. Clyde doesn't even take that class. How do you even know that."

The blonde smiled wryly and chuckled. "Token came with you to school. It was just a hunch, but you gave it away. Also Clyde will still cry."

Craig dropped his head to the side and glared at the pee-stained wall. He envisioned Clyde running to him and crying, shouting that he had been betrayed and whining that the only one who really loved him was his Kevin, who would never not invite him to a sleepover. Craig adopted a pained expression. Clyde would get snot all over him. The faster he chose to just pee and get it over with, the faster this would end and Craig would be in the clear.

"Fine." The noirette went about his business with only minor difficulties as Kenny smiled smugly and did the same. He cheerfully chatted about some nonsense, and he even made them hold hands while they fumbled to tuck and zip up one handedly.

"Craig, I can help," Kenny suggested with a wink and a smirk.

"Your hand is going nowhere near my crotch," Craig snorted before he finally got his zipper up.

Kenny pouted jokingly, and tugged Craig to the sinks. He made them share a sink and hold hands through washing up. He squeezed the suds between their hands, causing bubbles to fly up and land on Craig's cheek. Kenny laughed and took note of the very faint blush behind Craig's glare.

…

Sometimes it was what Craig needed.

It was just any other Thursday morning, and Kenny knew something was wrong with Craig. He had spotted him in the hallway with Token and Clyde, but Craig seemed off. His posture was more rigid. His usual bored expression looked more lost or distracted, and he seemed completely tuned out of conversation. Kenny had been down the hall with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. Stan and Kyle were engaged in quiet cutesy banter, and Cartman was addressing him, but wasn't paying any attention to the conversation until he heard Craig's name.

"-you know Craig is a fag, though. You can tell Millie that she shouldn't even bother with his gay ass. Tell her that if she wants the company of a gentleman, she can hit me up. Craig is such an asshole, you guys, seriously."

"Shut up, Fatass." Kenny scoffed at his ridiculousness.

Kenny could see from where he was leaning on Kyle's lanky frame that Craig had parted with the group and was walking towards them. Kenny's eyes darted back and forth between Craig's approaching form and Cartman, who was still ripping on Craig. He had a feeling that Craig wasn't in the mood for anyone's bullshit today. He sent an elbow into Cartman's side, attempting to get him to shut up.

"What the hell, Kinny?" Cartman turned fully towards him, annoyed, but he saw Craig as he was passing and sneered, raising his voice a little louder. "Tell her-ohmygodseriously- tell her that Craig shoves that rat, Stripes, up his ass every night, that's how gay he is."

Kenny watched as Craig froze. He turned towards Cartman, an intimidating glower on his face. "What did you say about Stripe?"

Cartman turned towards him with a humorous glint in his eye. "I _saaaid_ , Millie shouldn't be interested in you because every night before you go to bed, you take your rat and you rub it all over your ass before you shove it-" Whack!

"Holy shit, dude!" Stan exclaimed, pulling Kyle behind him.

Craig had delivered a solid punch to Cartman's right eye. Students who had seen gaped at the outburst and stopped to gather around in case a fight was breaking out. Cartman hit the lockers behind him and cursed, clutching at his face. When Kenny looked back to Craig, he was gone. He spotted a blue blur rushing down the hallway. He chased after him, already knowing where he was headed.

Kenny found him sitting up against the wall at their usual smoking spot. Craig was staring off towards the snowy horizon, and Kenny barely got a glimpse of the crumpled look on his face before he had schooled it into apathy as he heard approaching footsteps. The blonde sidled over and plopped down next to him, their arms barely brushing. He pulled out his pack and held it out to Craig, who nodded and took one, lighting the cigarette when Kenny offered him a flame. The noirette took long and slow drags, tendrils of smoke spilling from his lips as he resumed his thousand-mile stare. Kenny eyed his other hand dangling off of his knees. It was stiffly still. Kenny licked his lips and looked out, trying to see what Craig saw.

"Stripe died," Craig broke the silence after a while. Kenny shot his head towards him, searching his stoic face. The blonde looked down towards the slush covered ground as he came to understand.

"I found him dead in his cage last night."

No wonder Craig had punched Cartman. Hell, Kenny was surprised he hadn't killed him. Everyone knew how much Craig loved Stripe. Kenny side-eyed Craig, saw the hunch to his shoulders, and sighed. He didn't know how to make him feel better. He didn't even know if Craig wanted comfort from him. But, feeling the urge to do something, anything, he glanced at Craig's hand again. He slowly reached for it, giving Craig time to pull away. When he didn't, Kenny lightly interlaced their fingers, resting their hands on Craig's knee. The blonde looked at Craig in surprise when he had tightly squeezed Kenny's hand in his own. Craig briefly met his eyes, and Kenny saw the heartache shining through the hazel. He shuffled just a bit closer.

…

At some point, it became something Craig wanted.

Kenny was sitting next to Craig at the lunch table, Tweek, Token, and Clyde with them.

"I swear to god, Bebe totally wants Clyde Junior. Again. Earlier in the hallway I put my jacket over a soda spill all suave and shit so she wouldn't have to step in it and she kissed my cheek, man," Clyde gloated, jabbing a French fry in the air to make his point.

"I don't know, Clyde. I actually heard she was talking to both Wendy and Kyle," Token countered.

Kenny barked out a laugh. "Ok. Doubt Kyle would have the time for that in between all of the dick sucking sessions with Stan, though."

Tweek whimpered and covered his ears, muttering, "T-too much information, man. I don't want to know! What if I g-get interrogated and _tortured_ for all of my knowledge!"

Craig raised his eyebrow at the news but was not surprised to hear it. He glanced over at a tree on the other side of the yard where Kyle and Stan were eating their lunch. They were huddled and laughing and, yes, it was pretty obvious how lovey-dovey they were. Stan stretched to lean over Kyle to grab for his book bag, and Craig swore he saw Kyle's dick slip into Stan's mouth briefly. He scrunched up his nose and rejoined the conversation at his table. Clyde was now cheering about his destined victory with Bebe.

"Keep your v-voice down or they'll c-come after you, too!"

Token eyed Clyde. "So you mentioned a soda spill and your jacket. Is this the legendary artifact?"

Kenny reached across the table to grab Clyde's shoulder. He pulled it to turn his back toward the rest of the table, revealing a tan stain. Craig and Token groaned, Tweek quickly crumbled up his lunch trash and dashed away screaming about germs, and Clyde just shrugged.

"It's cold outside! I don't care about a little stain. I'm a man!" Clyde defended himself.

"That's gross, Clyde."

"Whatever. It's all part of the wooing process. Bebe will see it and probably feel bad and who knows, maybe she'll offer to do my laundry. Isn't that a thing? People do laundry for people they have a crush on? No, wait, that's just Craig." Clyde threw a tater tot at a glaring Craig.

"We were 9, dumbass. Thomas was cool. He didn't have restrictions. And I did do his laundry. There were no ulterior sexual motives on my part, though."

"Hehe Craig, you sure you didn't give him the ol' sit and spin cycle?" Token chuckled. Craig stared at Token, aghast, as the table laughed. When had his gentleman become so vulgar? He blamed Kenny and his recent frequency in their group.

Kenny, as if on cue, grabbed his hand underneath the table, holding his palm open on his own knee and holding it there by the wrist with his other hand. He traced shapes into his palm as he batted his eyes at him. "Damn Craig, how come you never offer to do _my_ laundry?"

Craig scoffed at the obnoxious laughter and insults coming from around the table. His hand twitched under the blonde's finger. His palm was ticklish, and it was bothering him. Honestly he'd prefer that Kenny just held his hand. His hands were kind of cold anyways. Not that he would say this.

"Ooh, ooh!" Clyde exclaimed, a smug expression settling in. "One time when Craig was doing his Sacred Laundering Ceremony, I tossed in my underwear and a sock when he wasn't looking. Probably my most impressive achievement. I managed to swipe my underwear while he was folding, but I never got the sock." He suddenly looked distraught. Craig looked disgusted.

"You what. Also what the hell why was it a single sock?"

Clyde narrowed his eyes at him. "What did you do with it? It was my lucky sock."

Craig raised an eyebrow, recalling the offending article. "Was it a sock that had a huge hole in the big toe?"

"Yeah!" Clyde looked hopeful.

"I thought Ruby somehow got it in there so I burned it."

Clyde's jaw dropped. Token's eyebrows shot up and he shared a look of impending doom with Craig and Kenny. "God damn it," Craig muttered, seeing Clyde's eyes begin to shine with the threat of tears. "I'll buy you a Crunch Wrap Supreme if you don't cry." Kenny laughed and traced the length of Craig's fingers. Craig tensed his jaw, refusing to give away that he was ticklish, that he had that weakness.

"But dude!" Clyde whined. "I was wearing that sock the first time I ever got laid! It was special!"

Craig used his free hand to massage his temple. This was no simple Crunch Wrap Fix. It was time to call in the big guns. "Fine. Cheesecake Factory."

Clyde narrowed his eyes. "Dinner _and_ desserts?"

"Dessert _s_?" Kenny asked, emphasizing the s. "As in multiple?"

"Yeah. Clyde likes cheesecake," Token chimed in.

Craig nodded gravely. Clyde held out his hand to shake. Craig rolled his eyes. His shaking hand was occupied. He reached out his other hand, and Clyde confusedly took it. It was a very weird handshake but the deal had been made.

"I'm going to go smoke before next period. See you shitheads later," Craig said, getting up and walking away with Kenny in tow.

They got to the usual spot and Craig plopped down on his ass. He pulled out his cigarettes, offering one to Kenny who took a seat on his left. They lit up and puffed into the chilly air.

"Yo, when you guys go to Cheesecake Factory, will you take me with you?" The blonde asked, reaching out to take Craig's hand again but entwining their fingers instead of submitting him to tickle torture. Craig was glad. He closed his hand around Kenny's, leeching his warmth.

"Sure," Craig replied.

Kenny grinned mischievously. "Will you pay for my meal, too?"

Craig raised an eyebrow at him. Kenny has a job, he can pay for himself and he typically doesn't like mooching unless it's for cigarettes. "Why."

"Well, I figured you could buy me a meal before you treat me to the spin cycle." Kenny winked.

"What." The noirette looked at him in distaste.

"You'll be doing my laundry soon enough." Kenny laughed.

Craig's eyes narrowed. "What the hell makes you think that."

"You always smoke with your left hand. But the past couple times we've smoked, you leave whichever hand is nearest me free so I can hold it, even your left," Kenny reasoned, scooting closer.

Craig scoffed, not bothering to reply. He felt Kenny's thumb brushing over the back of his hand, causing goosebumps to rush up his arm. He took a drag.

…

It became a regular, thoughtless thing.

They walked up to the store, hand in hand and huddled against the cold. Kenny was already talking about later plans once they leave. The bell rang as they entered the store, and they nodded at the bored looking employee that greeted them.

"I still don't understand why you're here," Craig grumbled. "You didn't even bring any laundry." They made it to his favorite washer and he started add his clothing and detergent.

The blonde sighed. "And I don't understand why _you're_ here. You've got a washer and dryer at home."

"I like the Laundromat. It's peaceful. And pretty. And these are industrial sized machines. And it smells amazing. And they're front loading so I can watch."

Kenny smiled at Craig as he set the cycle and walked over to slide down the wall and sit across from the washing machine. Kenny joined him on the floor. They watched the colors spin in the machine, sudsy and transforming. Kenny looked around at the empty Laundromat and then at Craig. "Okay, I can see how this is relaxing." Craig took his hand and told him to shut up. They sat in quiet, lulled by the soft hum of the machine.

The buzz of a completed cycle woke them up. Craig lifted his head from Kenny's and yawned while Kenny rubbed his eyes. The noirette pulled himself up, releasing Kenny's hand to switch his laundry into the dryer.

"Dude, you're dedicated."

Craig only glanced at him. He added some dryer sheets and started the next cycle.

"What kind of dryer sheets do you use?"

"Lilies and linen," Craig answered, handing him a dryer sheet to smell.

"Nice." Kenny said, then cracked up.

Craig glared at him before he chuckled as well.

…

Somehow, it became the only thing that kept Craig grounded in this world.

"Don't _fucking_ stop!" Craig keened, his head falling back as Kenny bit at that spot on his shoulder, teeth nicking his collarbone as they rocked together.

Craig reached out blindly for Kenny. The blonde met his hand, lacing their fingers together and pinning it above Craig's head. The noirette was grateful for the connection amid overwhelming pleasure. Kenny looked down at Craig as he snapped his hips into him, eyeing each mark and bruise and watching his face contorted in pleasure. Clearly he had found Craig's sweet spot, and he grinded into it between thrusts. The noirette moaned Kenny's name wantonly and held tightly to his hand, his hips sinking back to meet Kenny's. He scratched into Kenny's back with his free hand in his efforts to pull him closer.

"Craig, god," Kenny moaned, and leaned down to kiss him briefly. Craig had started his telltale low humming that indicated he was close. Kenny quickly took Craig's dick in hand and jerked him off quick and rough. The blonde fucked into him as hard and fast as he could, the headboard banging into the wall and the mattress squeaking beneath them. Craig tensed up and came onto their stomachs, a silent cry on his face. Kenny came shortly after with a low groan as he rode it out. Coming to a stop, they breathed a moment before Kenny slipped out, removing his condom and tying it up. He tossed it in the direction of Craig's trashcan, and Kenny hoped to god that he hadn't missed. He did not want to be chewed out later if he had missed. He collapsed half on top of Craig, chests heaving into the sticky mess. Craig reached around on the floor, finding Kenny's shirt and using it to wipe themselves off.

"Hey!" Kenny protested, pouting as he watched Craig toss the dirtied article of clothing perfectly into his hamper.

"Chill. We're making a laundry run after we take a god damn nap. These sheets need to be cleaned."

Kenny grinned and brought their intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing along Craig's knuckles. "So. Looks like you're finally doing my laundry. Someone's got a crush." The blonde scooted closer to Craig and draped himself over him, kissing his neck softly.

Craig rolled his eyes at Kenny's sarcasm and ran a hand into his soft blonde hair tiredly. "I mean. You're not wrong."

Kenny chuckled and rest his head next to Craig's, eyes slipping closed. "I love you, Craig."

Craig smiled and squeezed Kenny's hand, letting his eyes close as well as he snuggled closer to Kenny. "I love you, too, Kenny."


End file.
